


The First Lady's Hand Fetish

by Scotland_Axel (orphan_account)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, Flotus Steve, Fluff, M/M, POTUS au, President Sam, President of the United States AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 10:32:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13500072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Scotland_Axel
Summary: “Does The First Lady, Captain Steve Rogers, Have a HAND FETISH? Man, that’s hilarious.” Sam laughs.





	The First Lady's Hand Fetish

“Sam, we have a crisis.” Maria calls out, opening the door and walking into their bedroom. 

Sam groans and Steve laughs into his shoulder. “Maria, how many times have I told you the bedroom is off limits. As the President of the United States, I feel like I should be able to declare a single  _ room _ off limits.” Sam protests, squinting as she flips on the lights. 

Steve moans and buries his head into Sam’s hip as he sits up, letting the sheets pool in his lap. “What is it, Maria?” Sam asks, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Just take a look at this.” She says, walking over to the bed and handing him her tablet.

Sam laughs at the headline and skims over the article briefly. This hardly counts as a crisis in his opinion. 

“Does The First Lady, Captain Steve Rogers, Have a HAND FETISH? Man, that’s hilarious.” Sam laughs, clicking on all the pictures of them at the poetry gala the night previous.

“Huh?” Steve asks, rousing himself from Sam’s hip and sitting up, leaning against Sam’s shoulder as he peers down at the article. 

He looks at the several images of himself holding or playing with Sam’s hand and flushes, laughing nervously as if caught. 

“So what’s the big deal? Sam has nice hands.” Steve jokes, taking Sam’s hand again and kissing it just as he did last night.    
“The word ‘fetish’ should never be anywhere near  _ either  _ of you two. You’re like the country’s parents, no one wants to know what their parents get up to in the bedroom. And Steve, you supposedly having a hand fetish easily lends oneself to wondering just what those hands can do.” Maria explains, glaring seriously at the both of them.

Steve wiggles his eyebrows and licks a stripe up Sam’s palm, “Oooh, these hands can do all  _ sorts  _ of things, can’t they, baby?” He teases, and Sam laughs at him.

“Maria, I think you’re overreacting with this. It’s just one stupid article. What harm can it do?” Sam asks. 

“Actually, Sam, it’s  _ not  _ just one article. There’s at least five circling the media this morning, and if it goes unaddressed the entire nation will simply assume the claims are true and the First Lady really  _ does  _ have a hand fetish.” Maria corrects, taking her tablet back from Sam. 

Steve sighs and rolls his eyes, “Fine, what do I do, make a statement about not fetishizing my husband’s hands? You realize how stupid that sounds, right?” Steve says. 

“Yes, I do, but you two are the first gay couple in the damn White House. You don’t need any more reasons for the conservatives to throw a fucking fit. And trust me, they’re a bunch of old white men in diapers, and if there’s one thing they’re good at — it’s throwing a fucking fit.” 

“Hate to say it, but you’re right. How soon does this address need to be made?” Steve asks, before playfully biting Sam’s shoulder. 

Maria replies, “Steve, are you seriously asking me if you two have time for sex before you have to throw on a suit and address the nation?” 

“Yes, Maria, that is exactly what he’s asking.” Sam answers, and Steve laughs. 

Maria rolls her eyes and starts to strut to the door, “You two have an hour. Be ready at eight, Steve.” 

The door closes behind her and the two laugh together. 

“This is ridiculous.” Steve says. 

“Politics tend to be that.” Sam answers, kissing Steve’s cheek. “What are you gonna say?” 

“God, Sam, I don’t know. I’m not as good at talking like you, that’s why you’re the president, I just smile and look pretty.” Steve sighs. 

Sam tsks and says, “That’s not true. It’s a simple question. Why do you like my hands so much?” 

Steve hums consideringly and picks up his left one, pressing his knuckles to his lips. 

“I don’t know.” He begins, “Cause they’re so strong and manly, I guess. Capable, is the best word I would use. They’re not soft, they’re calloused from your time in the sandbox, a real common man’s hands. In a way you could even say you were elected because of your hands. Your hands aren’t those of someone who’s been spoonfed all their lives. They’re the exact same hands of the people you stand for, of the American people. And you’re not afraid to put them in the mud in order to make something better either.” Steve smiles, and squeezes his thumbs into Sam’s palm, “These are the hands of a modern hero, so why shouldn’t I love ‘em?” 

Sam grins at him and kisses the stupid smile off of his husband’s face.  _ “That’s _ what you should say.”

Steve raises his eyebrows, “Really?”

“Yeah.” 

“How much time do we have Mr. President?” Steve asks. 

Sam stutters his answer as Steve draws one of his fingers into his mouth, “U-uh, a good fifty-seven minutes probably.” 

“Let’s not waste them then.” Steve replies, and kisses him. 


End file.
